


Broken Crown

by faikitty



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikitty/pseuds/faikitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn is injured. It isn’t his fault he’s not thinking straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Crown

“Sometimes I think you’re heartless.”

Flynn’s words ring out in the quiet room, and Yuri glances up quickly. Out in the lobby of the inn, the pair can hear the laughter and monotonous chatter of other patrons. The voices are dwindling down as the night grows older, and he knows soon everyone else will be in bed as well.

Hell, Flynn shouldn’t be in bed yet. But injuries take rest to recover from.

It was only a small skirmish with bandits, and his own carelessness was responsible for the bloody gash on his shoulder from one of the men’s swords and the broken rib, and though he managed to defeat his opponent, he collapsed shortly after.

“What are you talking about? I’m the one who brought you to this inn, you ass,” Yuri replies, an eyebrow lifted.

Flynn snorts then cringes at the pain that runs through his torso. “Just because you brought me back doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “I called to you to help me when that man ran at me. I was already blocking one blade; I couldn’t very well block two. You didn’t do anything though. You just stood and looked at me.”

He doesn’t know why he’s inciting Yuri to anger like this. But his brain is foggy with drugs and his body aches, and it’s cold, why is the room so damn cold? Yuri should have done something to help him instead of staring. Why isn’t  _he_  the one lying in this bed?

“You were so calm when you carrying me back too. You  _walked_  back, Yuri, while I held my arm together,” Flynn continues. “It  _hurt_. If you were the one who was injured, I would have run back as quickly as I could.”

Yuri stands suddenly and approaches the bed in two long strides, leaning over the blonde. Flynn forces his blurry eyes (did the room always spin like this?) to meet the other man’s, flinching at the anger there.

“You say I stay calm even when someone close to me is injured?” Yuri asks quietly, his voice little more than a hiss, and the knight shuts his eyes tight. “How long have you known me, Flynn?” He sits with a soft thud on the side of Flynn’s bed. “Did it occur to you that there was someone else who needed my help? Someone like Estelle? Would you rather I had let her die to save you from getting injured? I’ve seen you fight, and I trust you to take care of yourself.” Yuri sighs. Flynn chances a quick glance at him and sees him with his elbow on his knee and his chin in his palm. “Did you think maybe I didn’t know you were going to let yourself get hurt like that? And that I would have taken your place if I could have?” In a flash Yuri is up again, this time at the side of Flynn’s head, and the blonde’s eyes are open wide now. “And in the bit of medical training I know you got in training to become a knight, did you not learn that you aren’t supposed to move people who are as injured as you were?” Yuri tugs the top of Flynn’s loose shirt down a bit to reveal his bandages, blood and sweat soaking through the linens. Yuri’s fingers brush against the wound and Flynn bites back a whine. “And that if I had moved any faster than a walk, my body would have jarred your shoulder so much that you would probably still be unconscious from the pain?”

Flynn starts as Yuri leans over and kisses his shoulder. “S-sorry…” the blonde mutters, wrapping his operable arm over Yuri’s back, and Yuri mumbles a quiet response into his shoulder.

Straightening up and wiping a smidgen of blood off his lips, Yuri pushes Flynn’s shirt up, ignoring the other man’s protests. “You broke a rib or two too, right?” Yuri asks, and without waiting for confirmation he kisses along Flynn’s sides. The blonde bites his lips at the pain from the still-spreading bruises along the cracked ribs, and he shrinks against the bed, unable to gather enough strength to push Yuri away.

“That hurts,” he says, closing his eyes again. Yuri’s eyes narrow, and he merely covers up the blonde with the blanket before taking a step back.

“I’m sorry,” Yuri mutters, “sorry I let you get hurt. You know I didn’t mean to.” Flynn nods, and Yuri sighs. He brushes his fingers along Flynn’s cheek. “Heartless, huh…” he murmurs. “Maybe I am.” Taking Flynn’s hand, he places the palm against his chest. “But I still have a heartbeat. So maybe I’m not.”

_It’s faster than usual_. Despite the medicine, Flynn can tell that much. As he closes his eyes he can see Yuri’s face on his eyelids. The black haired man’s expression when he collapsed, he remembers, wasn’t one of calm but of worry. Worry for him. “I’m sorry…” he breathes. “I’m sorry…”

Yuri chuckles. “Hey, don’t worry about it. If you’re stressed, that just means it’ll take you longer to rejoin us. Repede will miss you if you’re stuck in here for long,” he says. When Flynn doesn’t reply, his brows knit together in concern. Flynn’s wrist is limp in his grasp. “Oi.” Leaning over the unconscious man, he can hear the rhythmic breathing and feel it warm on his ear. “Guess you got tired out. My bad.” He sets his lips gently against the corner of Flynn’s eye and pulls away slowly. He grabs the cover off the chair near the bed, lays it carefully over Flynn, and starts to walk away. He casts a lingering glance at Flynn’s body from the doorway. “Don’t scare me like that, okay?” Yuri’s voice is quiet, but in the now silent inn it’s the loudest sound. He picks the lantern up with a sigh and leaves, closing the door behind him.

In the darkness, Flynn pulls the blanket up to his mouth and exhales slowly. His cheeks are flushed, less from pain than from shyness he would  _never_  let Yuri see. The feeling of Yuri’s lips still lingers on his face. “Idiot,” he murmurs under his breath.  _As if I could fall asleep that quickly._  Even as he thinks it he yawns however, the sedatives in his blood finally making him slow down.  _I didn’t… intend to scare you…_   _I…_  But it’s no good; he’s asleep, and in his dreams he feels the memory of a kiss and another’s hand.

Heartless can’t be said to describe either of them.


End file.
